Act 1
It was a Hell on Earth, a place of unbearable heat, filled with unbreathable air, heavy enough to make it impossible for life to proliferate in that Godforsaken place. It was in such cases that Bryan made his appearance, he was the one present in the places where God was unable to arrive. The demon was lying on his bed of hot stones in the center of his personal room, isolated from others, alone with his thoughts. He lived in the present with his body and in the future with his mind, in his ears he could already hear the cries of the innocents he would make scream in pain, crossed his fingers as if they were smeared with the blood of his victims who soon would taste his destructive power. He laughed, his sharp teeth clenched in an evil expression as his small yellow eyes remained fixed on the dark ceiling. He waited, patiently, for the most important news of his life to come, one of his slaves very soon would come to tell him the final verdict. He kept his big hands crisscrossed one over the other, his legs crouched, he was naked as ever, his statuesque physique reflected the light emitted from the river of lava just a few steps away from him. Bryan loved listening to the magma proceed unstoppably on its natural course, it reminded him of himself, a magnificent being, powerful and impossible to command. 
"Sir! Sir!"
The voice echoed in the cavern; it had a faint tone. The soldier approached the doorway without daring to go any further, already at that point the air became unbreathable. Rob was the communications man in charge, and fate had chosen him to go down there to report any news to his king, the great and fearsome Bryan. Whenever the poor soldier went into that place he wondered how it was possible to stay there for all that time without suffocating to death. Halfway there, the stench of sulfur had penetrated his nostrils invading his brain, the walls became narrower and narrower as he went deeper into them, and the feeling of being crushed presented itself with a chilling punctuality. Rob's eyes were struggling to make out Bryan's figure in that cluster of darkness and gloom; he merely spoke without knowing whether his interlocutor was standing there ready to listen. 
"Sir, please forgive my sudden arrival...but the long-awaited news has finally come..."
The poor soldier immediately regretted the words he had just spoken; a few minutes earlier he had almost yelled at his commander as the idea seemed absurd to him. Going downstairs and shouting like that was equal to a death sentence, the difference was that the executioner would have been a tyrannical demon capable of causing unique pain. Despite several attempts, Rob had been forced to proceed that way, he was told that the importance of the news would grant him immunity. Now that the soldier had played his role, it was just a matter of waiting for Bryan to decide what to do.
"Sir...I'm sorry for barging in here like this, I'm sorry, but the commander kept threatening me that if I didn't do it he would...he would."
Rob bent on his knees and began to cry like a baby, the sobs alternating so quickly that it was impossible to understand the rest of the sentence.
"Rob"
The soldier suddenly aroused himself; out of his king's mouth came his name, for the first time ever.
"Sir...did you say my name?"
Rob could not believe it, the question came out of his mouth without being able to restrain himself.
"Did the King say yes?"
Bryan's voice was deep and pleasantly calm, like that of a puppeteer about to prepare the show and who knows every character and every piece at his disposal perfectly.
"Exactly, he will come tomorrow at dawn with his best warrior, shall I summon Arthur?"
Rob was no longer crying; in fact, he looked happy.
"You know what Rob?"
Bryan's words were accompanied by a flat noise, like rocks falling from a certain height breaking on the ground. Rob became excited; his king had called him by name for the second time. For a moment he thought they had become friends. A full minute passed, and the soldier stood waiting with his head resting on the wall and his eyes plunged into darkness. 
"Sir?"
Rob tried to re-establish a connection.
"Sir? Sir? Can I give you a blowjob, sir? It's me! Your amazing Rob."
It was a high-pitched, falsetto voice that propagated from different parts of the cavern as if it belonged to a ghost in constant movement. Rob was instantly petrified, the blood in his veins froze, and soon the little light available in that ravine came to be covered by a large horned figure that towered over the soldier's slender body. Bryan was naked, his swollen muscles covered with veins were exposed, seen up close they appeared even larger to Rob's incredulous eyes. The Demon King needed very little, his immense strength was beyond imagination.
"I got a great urge to kill you and then to bite your face off."
Out of Bryan's mouth came a heavy breath that reeked of congealed blood and death. The demon grabbed Rob by the neck and smashed his head against the wall, smashing it in one blow. 
"You were right Rob, we must summon Arthur..."
Bryan laughed as Rob's cool flesh filled his jaws.


Act 2
"Where the hell is Arthur?"
Commander Frisk ran through the camp screaming like hell and stopping every soldier on the street asking for directions to Arthur's whereabouts. Frisk had not been in time to put on his armor when a warning forced him out of his tent. A boy had been found in front of the entrance to the King's cave; it took the soldiers several moments to realize that the cadavare's identity belonged to Rob. The message was clear to all, and as Frisk was the highest ranking, he was the one who hurried to summon the best warrior of the empire. 
"Can anyone tell me where the hell is Arthur?"
As Frisk shouted with all the breath in his lungs, he collapsed to his knees when for the umpteenth time he received no answer. 
"Captain! Arthur is on his way! I've heard the news and have personally communicated it to him!"
Frisk turned his head and saw the soldier beside him; he was short and unimpressive-looking.
"I am too tired to punish you, just go away!"
Frisk merely said.
Arthur's shadow was even larger than his huge body, projecting onto the field the immense silhouette of the strongest fighter at hand in Bryan's army lines. The polar bear was close to 7 feet and was striding slowly across the field like a centuries-old shrub that could move. His gorgeous silky white fur reflected the rays of the midday sun while his bright red hair distinguished him from the rest of the fighters, as if his stature wasn't enough. He was naked, not that he minded showing his huge cock to his comrades. He didn't stop to talk to anyone; he didn't like to make any friends, and all his years of past wars had taught him not to form relationships with comrades who would die sooner or later. The army gathered around the cave waiting for their champion to arrive, a chorus with Arthur's name echoed through the camp for miles until the bear entered Bryan's dwelling without reacting in any way. After a few minutes the bear's red eyes, shining like two fires in the darkness, emerged just before the sun highlighted his entire figure. Captain Frisk took a few steps toward Arthur, their size was so different as to seem ridiculous. 
"Arthur... so will you fight?"
Asked the captain, he held his helmet tightly in his hands and stared upward at the figure of the fearsome bear in front of him.
"Tomorrow, at dawn their strongest warrior will come and decide the outcome of this war " These few words were sufficient, and the entire army erupted with a series of shouts. Some out of elation, some out of anger, and some out of suffering screamed at the mere thought that the war might finally be over. Arthur's face remained impassive as Frisk turned with a big smile toward his comrades. The war had decimated companions, slaughtered family fathers, and devastated hundreds of fields that would never again be fertile. The bear headed for the river, he would train with a few logs in anticipation of the fight. 
Arthur liked to train alone, none of the other soldiers were able to last even a minute with him. The bear held a small part of Bryan's power that was enough to make him enormously stronger than the others.
. The bear had lost the state of time as thoughts clogged his brain and realized with some amazement that he had arrived at his destination. A large waterfall, a small river with clear fresh water, trees and bushes; Arthur was surrounded by so many different forms of life. The giant spent the rest of the evening preparing for the next day.


The night passed as fast as a shooting star, Arthur opened his eyes wide and got up suddenly, his big heart pounding, for a moment he thought he was late for the encounter. The sun had just made its appearance above the horizon and through the foliage of the trees, Arthur let out a sigh of relief and headed back to camp. Frisk went through the army and woke up the stragglers by kicking, then gave final orders to his lieutenants and finally headed for the cave to await the king. The sky adapted to the battle atmosphere, the sun was obscured, and the entire ceiling of the world came black and filled with large clouds ready to pour down liters of rain. Frisk sensed a big change around him as well; hot, stinking air burst from the cave. Just at that moment, Bryan stepped out of his dark bunker with a cadenced, proud step wearing his best armor made of unbreakable obsidian plates. The fur of the soldiers grew arrizzed and their souls instantly darkened, the vision of their king caused a feeling of physical and psychological degradation to grow in their souls. This was only a small part of the power Bryan was able to emanate by his mere presence. The drill shouted in the presence of their King, and everyone, including Bryan, stood impatiently waiting for the champion's arrival. Arthur joined them shortly thereafter, donned a pair of leather rags, and joined the others in the deployment. The army finally set out, the place chosen for the clash was much closer than they might have guessed. 


Act 3
The battle that would decide the fate of the empire would take place on the plain set between the two conflicting regions. That symbolic place seemed to have been shaped to play exactly that role; no trees grew in that area, and for hundreds of kilometers the grass was no more than 5 centimeters high. The armies met at the appointed time, the two sides mirrored in each other's eyes. Rows of soldiers ready to raise hell if the command was given. The two mounted kings met in the center where the ears of the soldiers couldn't reach. The two nodded at each other and rode away. The King of the enemy army passed in front of his men, cheered them one more time and finally called his champion. The ranks fanned out, and a tall, slender figure separated from the mass and walked into the corridor created on purpose by his comrades. On the other side the same was happening.
"Arthur... now it' s your turn!"
He merely said the demon with his gaze fixed on a specific point. The bestial figure of the bear became more and more apparent as his companions moved aside to let him pass. Arthur walked past Bryan; they looked at each other for a while. The bear clenched his teeth and clenched his fists. On the other side, the opposing champion was feeling the ground with his hooves; this was the famous Rowan, the stallion of the empire, as famous for his fighting skills as for the length of his cock. Arthur framed him from a distance to ascertain that the rumors about him were true. The horse's big dick protruded from beneath his chain mail armor, its size clearly evident even from far away. Rowan had been chosen specifically to counter Arthur, the horse was fast and agile despite his not inconsiderable size. He advanced proudly onto the battlefield; the previous evening he had fucked two prostitutes at the camp for the entire night, and that morning he was fighting to decide the fate of his kingdom. What could he want more from life? Arthur made his entrance, the army behind him began to shrink. The bear dropped his weapons; his opponent imitated him shortly after. Rowan reached the center first, his hopeful green eyes shone like emeralds under the scorching sun; the clash had not begun yet, still both combatants were sweating uncontrollably. The armies watched as their respective representatives approached, all panting with the excitement of the moment, the air was heavy, and the responsibility for the lives of all those souls rested on the mighty shoulders of two individual warriors. 
"The famous and powerful Arthur...I pictured you being much bigger! Ya know I thought of a thousand ways to make you suffer and finally..."
Rowan spoke in bursts without allowing his vocal cords a single pause.
"Why don't you shut the fuck up?"
Arthur truncated the speech with a few but effective words, then closed his fists and assumed a fighting pose. 
"Arthur you fight like my fucking grandfather!"
Rowan burst out laughing before positioning himself.
The horns of the two factions sounded along with the war drums, an annoyed buzz spread among the troops, the bets on the future of the empire had just been closed and the battle had officially begun. Rowan launched himself into the attack, grinding meters in seconds, his long legs alternating in a few but effective forward steps. Arthur merely waited for his opponent to approach, tried at once to memorize his movements so as to predict them in the future. The horse shortened his distance until he was a couple of meters away from the bear; close up his enemy was much larger. Rowan's soft green eyes narrowly held their own against Arthur's hard red ones. The horse took advantage of his speed to gauge the distance; he found that only by pushing his torso forward was he able to get properly close. The difference in height gave Arthur a great advantage, and in addition the bear had the incredible length of the upper levers in his favor. It was enough for Arthur to stretch his arm forward to see how great the advantage was in that fight. Rowan, smartly, spaced himself far enough apart to get a better look and consider an alternative to frontal blows. Neither of them seemed to expose themselves, and for all present that confrontation had the air of one that would go on for many hours. Rowan danced with his muscular legs on the ground, tufts of grass tearing at every step, Arthur on the contrary remained in the same pose with his guard up waiting for the propitious moment. The horse realized, unfortunately, that waiting would accomplish nothing, so after a thousand second thoughts he opted for a combination of surprise blows. With an excellent feint he managed to shorten the distance, then he ducked and charged a powerful uppercut to the liver, but Arthur, thanks to his exceptional reflexes, followed his opponent's movements and bending with his body in his direction managed to deal a formidable elbow that shattered on the poor horse's skull. Rowan's eyes opened wide at that precise instant and spurts of saliva mixed with blood spurted from his mouth. The bear's elbow had penetrated the horse's brain walls to the point of breaking through several regions crucial to his movement. Rowan indeed ended up on the ground with his mouth open and his breathing slow, Arthur on top of him had already composed himself and returned to a normal position. The horse found strength in muscles he did not think he possessed, positioned his hands on loam to give himself the push he needed to get up. Meanwhile, his eyes and ears were no longer able to learn information efficiently, the blow to the head disabled almost every sensory function, the ubiquitous adrenaline in Rowan's veins prevented him from understanding such a clear thing. In the two huddles of soldiers the buzz suddenly ceased, many among them turned their faces toward their flanking comrade to verify that the blow suffered by the horse had really happened. Some, in spite of everything, kept arguing that it was an unacceptable fact. What kind of champion would let himself be defeated at the first blow? Rowan lay helpless under the heavy gaze of the polar bear. 
"You talk far too much for one who fights for the destiny of his kingdom."
These were the last words the horse could hear, some even failing to reach its destination because of the damage it had just sustained. No soldier in sight could imagine how powerful a single blow by the bear could be. Arthur took a few steps and positioned himself behind Rowan's body, which was trying hard to support itself on his arms, grabbed and squeezed him in a powerful rear naked choke. The bear's biceps and forearms tightened like tongs on the horse's wide, stubby neck; a normal creature would not have been able to do this; to strangle a being as strong as Rowan required an equally powerful being. 
Arthur lifted his opponent as if he were a toy, with a movement of the pelvis the bear's huge cock sprang out like a surprise guest and thrust itself overwhelmingly into the horse's anus. Arthur pushed Rowan to the ground as he choked him to death and simultaneously hammered his anus until it bled. The horse would have loved to scream but his entire respiratory pathway was blocked and his control over his muscles became weaker and weaker. A few veins on Rowan's neck exploded, his mouth opened producing one last gasp of despair, the two beautiful green eyes lost saturation and finally turned white as if a thick fog was trying to deny him sight. Arthur continued to fuck his opponent nonstop in front of the incredulous eyes of the two armies, drilled the horse's anus lubricating his cock with fresh blood from the devastating rape. Bryan smiled and began to applaud, he was the only one in the place who was doing so, everybody, including the winning army remained silent observing the macabre show.


Act 4 
"They must have been fighting at this hour..."
"Yeah, they finally chose Rowan to fight, right?"
"Yes but I don't think he will win, I mean we all know what Arthur is capable of...that guy is unbeatable!"
"Yes but the boss is there, he could."
"We haven't seen him in action for many months, we've been planning the surprise attack for so long that I've actually forgot how to fight!"
Lunchtime was one of the few times when the barbarians could exchange some talk without being called back. There were four of them, the first to return back to camp to eat, sitting around a wooden table they had made. 
"Maybe Rick should practice more instead of complaining!"
Said the tallest one of the four.
"Listen, I like to complain, you could just indulge me!"
Replied the one seated opposite.
"Look, instead of bullshitting, can you tell me why the boss hasn't come back yet?"
The visibly older one interjected. He wore threadbare clothes, and his voice as his body showed the first signs of breaking down.
"I know he had some business to take care of, but that's all he told us..."
Replied the last of the four, this one had been sitting staring into the void for at least an hour.
"Is he leaving to take care of things right now?"
"Take it easy, we'll eat anyway even if he doesn't come. I know you're starving, with this fucking war you can' t ever find anything that' s edible..."
The old man finished that his distressed words flowed out of his mouth, then stood watching the slow fall of a leaf that had just separated from its tree, wondering what business his leader Broc had to resolve. 
Kass had been tracking Broc for days at a time, had discovered that his target liked to move among the high trees on which he could move unobserved and upon occasion attack from the air without warning. The big wolf with white fur and thick silvery hair had been fooled when his target, Broc, the big Barbarian leader had left the camp before the others and without warning. Kass slept in his heavy armor, took no time to get ready and set off at once to search the woods without wasting a single minute. By now four hours had passed and the wolf was groping in the dark with no landmarks; he was tired and impatience had been consuming him for a long time. He stopped near a shrub to think about what to do, the sun had risen, the clash was about to begin, the sound of moving armies was audible from there. Kass pulled out his canteen to sip some water, he was already looking at the next tree he was going to climb to continue the search, he could not know what was going to happen. It was fast, too much even for someone used to such a pace of life. Broc had reversed roles that day and decided without consulting Kass that he would become the hunter and the wolf the prey. The raccoon jumped onto the lowest branch, then, taking advantage of the elasticity of the newly bent wood, gave himself a better boost. His hair pulled back into a ponytail hovered in the wind, his gray fur stood up in excitement, the muscles in his legs and arms hardened. Broc bent the opposite gust of wind and landed on Kass's body unleashing unprecedented power, crushing him to the ground with no chance to react. The wolf found himself on the ground without understanding who or what had struck him. Broc stood up and admired the body of his opponent crushed on the ground in a pool of mud, he stepped back a few paces to let him stand up and grant another chance.
"I finally got you. You' re sent by the king, aren't you?"
Broc asked as Kass coughed up mud that had entered his mouth and all the way up his nose; his shining armor was dented and smeared with filthy, nauseating sludge.
"Aren't you going to answer? You are also insolent as fuck...did you think you could just- follow ME? ME? If I am the fucking leader of the barbarians there''ll be a reason for that don't you suppose? Do you really expect me to be stalked without realizing anything? I was just waiting for the perfect moment to fuck you over!"
Broc dealt a powerful kick aimed at the soldier's sternum. Kass felt the blow and used it to slip away and stand up.
"I have to admit, I had no thought you were so capable..."
Said the wolf as he removed pieces of armor that would be of limited use to him in the upcoming confrontation; Broc was practically naked and carried no weapon with him. Heavy armor would have been useless.
"What? Isn't there enough talk at court about how dangerous I am? Perhaps slaying you will fix the problem!"
Broc cracked his knuckles and licked his mustache; at any moment he was going to launch himself into the attack. Kass removed any weight that might have slowed him down, the sword had flown off on impact ending up who knows where in the bushes.
"No weapon, right?"
Kass asked, aware of the answer. The veins on his marble-carved body swelled with endorphins and adrenaline, his gray eyes narrowed to better frame the target. Broc took a few steps to the side before answering, the piercings in his nose and on his ear glistened in the sun, and his enormous dangling cock peeped out from the rag he kept on intimate parts. 
" Right..."
He finally replied, grinning like a perfect maniac.
Kass raised a dust from the ground to intercept his enemy's advance. The dust landed in the raccoon's eyes, which remained blinded.
"You son of a bitch!"
He said, holding his eyes with both hands. The wolf launched himself with a powerful spear, sweeping Broc to the ground. Kass assumed a dominant position, under his butt he felt a large bulge and he did not mind it at all. Once the position was solidified, Kass unleashed a barrage of punches on Broc who tried hard to defend himself, first with his forearms and then trying to turn the situation around. The badger recovered the use of his sight as that myriad of punches attempted to open his guard. He grabbed the wolf's head and brought it close to his own; now the two warriors could feel each other's hot breath on their faces and in their noses. Broc gave himself the push from the right with his leg and pelvis, managing with no small effort to tip the white behemoth to the other side. The feat was arduous, but the raccoon succeeded by reversing the situation again and taking the lead. The raccoon's big fists broke the arms of Kass, who was too tired to rebel again. Blood soon began to gush as Broc's knuckles penetrated the wolf's flesh producing cuts and wounds on every corner of his face. Kass's face, so beautiful and sculpted, soon looked like a battlefield, full of bruises, accumulations of blood under the skin, cuts and abrasions; some patches of skin had been ripped away by the violence of the punches, and the eyes were now a distant memory from being healthy and clearly visible. Kass spat blood as long as he had the strength to do it, soon his eyes glazed over as Broc's shone at the sight of that bloodshed beneath him. 
"I KILL YOU! I KILL YOU!"
Broc continued to beat Kass's poor helpless body for much longer. He unleashed all the rage he had in his body on him, all his fur became smeared with blood, his knuckles became so worn that they showed deep cuts on each finger. At the end of the massacre, all that remained of Kass was his body, almost unharmed, in stark contrast to the face that had been completely butchered. Broc was panting uncontrollably, the mud underneath him unstable and not providing support as he stood up. The heart in his chest was in danger of bursting out, but the smile on his face was beyond any price. . The raccoon slinged his cock and began to masturbate, only his big hands were able to handle it properly. Broc savored the sight of that muscular warrior in front of him with his face torn apart, it aroused him to know that he was the one whipping him like that. The sense of power, domination, and control mixed with bestiality, frenzy, and perversion drove him mad. He stuck his tongue out to taste the air, his throat was dry from the exertion and he stank like crap.  With the use of both hands his cock could not resist, and soon the raccoon poured the content of his balls over the corpse of the poor and unrecognizable Kass.  
"The worms will take care of you, you fucking spy! All these months you've been stalking the wrong raccoon!"
Broc spat on the corpse and turned to leave. Halfway through the camp, the stench emanating from it became so bothersome that he decided to make a stop at the river to wash up. The clash in the mud and the blood and sweat sufficed.


Act 5
Bryan had won and along with his army had invaded the city. Arthur had amused himself with Rowan's body for several minutes before handing it back to his enemies. The poor horse's ass had been split open, the pelvic bones and upper vertebrae were broken. The bear had not followed the others as agreed, at that precise moment he felt that his presence there collided with his own fate. From a distance, he sensed a call, from the waterfall, from the river where he had awakened that morning. That was precisely where Broc was going to wash up. The way back was much shorter, Arthur discovered with pleasure that his muscles had fully awakened and were now responding better to each call. He walked down the path quickly; he felt like lying down and catching up on lost sleep. Last night he had horrible nightmares of past wars that he tried to hide under the floor of his consciousness. The sun was now intent on peaking that day as well, the heat was beginning to be harder and harder to endure, Arthur watched the waterfall in the distance as if it were a mirage. The gentle blue of the water accompanied by the sense of coolness that only that liquid could give off. The bear made his way through the bushes that separated him from his sacred place, everything seemed perfect just as he had imagined it. Then, the worst thing that could have happened plunged in deep into Arthur's eyes, who stood for a few seconds staring at a scene he could not fathom. A large, dirty-looking, stinking being was submerged with its entire fetid body inside the pure, pristine water of the stream. Arthur's lips moved for no apparent reason; the bear was experiencing an arbitrary nerve spasm for the first time ever. He clenched his fists, for the second time that day he closed them so tightly that he injured his own palms. That filthy raccoon in the distance wallowed like a parasite staining the water around his body and contaminating with its filth the place that in those months of war had provided tranquility and well-being to the poor bear. Broc did not notice the presence of anyone but himself, indeed. The freezing water had slowly cleansed him from the blood and sweat congealed on his fur and was also imparting a sense of freshness. Broc was so relaxed that he did not even notice that a 7-foot-tall bear was about to pounce on him ready to kill him. Arthur did not consider any tactics, he leapt into the water blinded only by rage, fueled by ferocity he was determined to tear apart that bastard who had dared to invade his territory in that deplorable manner. Arthur landed on Broc unleashing a loud and powerful explosion, a large mass of water erupted into the air and more overflowed onto the shore due to the shock wave caused by the impact. Arthur was tall enough to touch the bottom with his paws, he took the opportunity to stare at the ground and remain still while with his big arms held Broc's head underwater. The badger did not realize what was happening to him; all he knew was that he find himself with the head submerged in the water that had so gently cradled him until just a moment earlier. The raccoon waved his arms and legs driven by survival instinct, but he soon realized that a force greater than his own forced him to remain in that position. . Broc understood after a few seconds that he was about to drown to death. At that exact moment his survival skills kicked in, he stopped moving in order to think better and conserve energy, meanwhile the bubbles swollen with air continued to come out of his mouth. Arthur kept pushing with both hands using all the force at his disposition, he would continue until the silly being was dead. Broc remained underwater for an undefined time without moving or emitting a single bubble again. Arthur enjoyed it like mad, the satisfaction of having massacred that being was magnificent. The bear let out a groan followed by a loud sigh.
Then he released his grip. Broc's body had been pushed so far down that the water struggled to bring him back to the surface. His silhouette appeared distorted by the veil of water that separated him from the outside. Arthur let out another loud breath through the gaps between his teeth and out came a sound much more like a snake than a bear. Broc slithered out of the pile of water as a shark and with a surprise attack drove a fist of unprecedented power into the liver of his aggressor. All he had to do was to hold his breath for 4 minutes, prolonged apnea was a skill he had trained years before and on several occasions had proved crucial to survival. Broc came back into action because of his incredible skills, he had survived so many things, violence from his peers, starvation, abandonment, loneliness and most of all drowning. The white giant was pushed backwards with that deadly blow but somehow managed to keep himself upright, Broc took advantage of those precious moments to recover his breath. Meanwhile, his black eyes watched the huge bear just a few steps away from him who seconds before had attempted to assassinate him. 
"How...the hell...did I not hear you?"
Said the badger, arcing one word after another. 
Arthur held his belly with his paws and only after hearing those words did he raise his head and take a good look at the connotations of the bastard in front of him. He recognized him instantly; posters with his face had been plastering the tents of the camp for months. It was Broc, the formidable leader of the Barbarians, the same one who was about to reassert another punch. Arthur tried to fight back but a twinge in his side only allowed him to flinch without allowing more complicated movements. Broc on the contrary leapt out of the water so as not to be slowed down by the liquid and in the blink of an eye reached the bear. He charged a quick combination of kicks and punches which sank into Arthur's flesh like a knife through butter. Broc's knuckles proved so hard and his blows so fast that they filled Arthur's face with cuts and wounds, who could do nothing but suffer without being able to react. The bear spat out several splashes of blood and then slumped with his side on the shore. His legs remained in the water without offering any resistance to the current while his upper body surged on the damp loam of the ground touching the river. Broc climbed onto two protruding rocks that he exploited as footholds; he was naked and his canine cock waved under a light gust of wind. Arthur raised his hand to wipe off the blood that relentlessly dripped from his lips. The wounds on his face stung a lot but never as badly as the anger for not killing his opponent and especially for being subbed out like that. Broc licked the remaining blood off his knuckles, then raised his head to the sky as the distinctive metallic taste invaded his palate. 
"I fucking love these moments!"
He sentenced before lowering his head again on the target. The raccoon, with remarkable agility, swooped down on the bear again. This time he prepared to unleash a destructive-looking super man punch. He bent his arm, moved it backward, accompanying the movement with his shoulder. The fibers of his forearms, biceps and deltoid visibly moved, the air bent to accommodate the blow that would ensue. Arthur admired the speed at which his opponent had returned to the attack, then he opened the five fingers of his hand, therewith 5 long, razor-sharp claws poked out. Broc processed what was happening but failed to maneuver his own movements with the same speed. His powerful, life-destroying fist came torn apart and dismembered with one powerful claw. The fingers, split into several pieces, flew away followed by a thick veil of blood that splashed out ending up in the eyes of his own possessor. Broc's landing trajectory altered and the raccoon hijacked hitting the ground and rolled a few feet. The wounds on Arthur's face were already gone. The bear came out of the water, shrugged off what was possible to get off his fur. 
"I finally got you out of there, you filthy barbarian!"
Arthur walked in Broc's direction with his exposed claws dripping in blood. Broc held his injured wrist with his other hand, stunned by the ease with which his fingers had jumped off. The raccoon raised his head and saw the first creature in his entire life that had been able to make him afraid. Arthur lifted his opponent into the high ground and slammed him to the ground several times accomplishing perfect power bombs, the spine with attached muscles and ligaments of the back being slaughtered and fractured by the power of that technique. Broc spat blood repeatedly as the pain became so severe that it exceeded the threshold of perception granted to a living being. Arthur finished the job by squeezing Broc by the neck until he broke him in two and separated his head from the rest of the body. The two parts of the Barbarian King fell to the ground sprinkling the grassy ground with blood and organs while the bear remained standing clutching what was left in his powerful hand, the carotid and the trachea. Arthur grabbed the head of Broc on whose face was immortalized a final expression of terror and disbelief. The bear could not ignore the huge erection begging him to fuck up something. Arthur happily agreed to accommodate his huge gargantuan penis. He resolutely opened wide the jaws of the dripping head and brought the swollen, throbbing chapel close to it. He penetrated the corpse's mouth with absolute calm, the soft walls welcoming the bear's hard, wide dick like a sweet, warm embrace. Arthur took advantage of the fresh blood as a lubricant and accelerated his thrust, entering and exiting the head with increased force and speed. He grasped the skull with both paws for a firmer grip as the cock that was too wide for that nook ripped its walls apart, widening and making them more suitable for his passage. He groaned aloud as his entire penis sank into the esophagus that remained attached to the skull, meanwhile he figured he did a good deed in that moment, he had just given a worthy purpose to the life of a stupid savage.